Until Autumn - Sheridan Anne Page 0,4

Asher rushes out as November growls low and deep, a sound I wasn’t aware a woman could make. “We’re trapped in the elevator with one of your midwife students and November needs to push.”

“Fuck,” he curses. “Put me on speakerphone.”

“You are.”

“Right, who am I speaking with?” he says, instantly jumping into doctor mode like the professional that he is.

“My name is Autumn Mathers, sir,” I say, my voice coming in way too timid and immediately showing just how terrified I am. “Today’s my first day.”

There’s a silent curse that I can hardly make out before he takes a deep, frustrated breath. “Right, Autumn. Welcome to Nashville. It’s a pleasure to be working with you. Now, I’m going to be blunt with you. The baby you’re about to deliver is my family, my blood, which means that today just became the most important day of your career. When you are bringing babies into the world, there is no room for error. Is that understood?”

I swallow down the bile that threatens to rise in my throat. Just great. I’m experimenting on Dr. Thorne Mayson’s family. If I screw this up or even do a tiny thing wrong, I’m screwed. Hell, even if I give him a bad vibe, I could be done in this world. Who’s going to want to work with the chick who’s on Dr. Mayson’s shit list?

I let out a breath, hoping to all that’s holy above that I don't screw this up. “Yes. Sir. Understood.”

“Good. Now, is November lying down?”

“Yes.”

“How far apart are her contractions?”

I resist groaning. “Two and a half minutes.”

“How dilated is she?” he asks.

“Fully,” I rush out, frustrated with all of his questions despite not really knowing if this is fully dilated or not, but assuming the baby is right there, I think it’s safe to say that she is ready to go. I mean, I get it. I know he wants to make sure all the boxes are ticked, but there’s simply no time for this. “The baby is crowning, and if we wait any longer, it’s going to give birth to itself. I’ll be seeing its forehead soon,” I explain as November begins to groan and clench her eyes. “Now, I don’t mean to be insensitive or rude to your training, and I hope this doesn’t leave you with a bad impression but screw your goddamn questions. The contraction is here and she needs to push. Now.”

Asher’s eyes widened at the tone I used with his cousin, but I put it aside to pick apart at a later date. “Fuck. Alright. November, can you hear me?”

“YES.”

“Right, legs up. You’re going to take a deep breath and then push. Asher, slowly count to ten.”

They instantly jump into it, showing that they’re far more experienced in this than I am. With November's legs up, I move in, ready to catch the baby.

Her face turns red as she strains to push while the soft rhythmic sounds of Asher’s counting fill the elevator.

“6, 7, 8, 9, 10.”

“Right, deep breath,” Dr. Mayson says. “And push again until the contraction fades.”

November does just that and as the head slowly pushes through to the outside world, she lets out a pained scream. “HOLY FUCK. MY VAGINA BURNS.”

Asher is quick to soothe her. “You’re doing great, baby. You’re doing great.”

“You’re nearly there,” I tell her, staring down at the wonder of childbirth and realizing just how amazing this is. It’s one thing to see it on a screen, but right here in person … nothing can compare. It’s a thrill I wasn’t ready for and has me pumped to keep going. Though I’m not going to lie, I’m more than happy not to be in November’s position. That shit looks deadly. “The head is just about out.”

Dr. Mayson takes that little snippet of information and runs with it. “Okay, November. On the next contraction, you’re going to push until the head is out and then I want you to stop. Autumn, let her know once the baby’s head is out. You’ll need to hold the head, keep it protected.”

“Got it,” I say, a thrill rushing through me.

November hardly gets a chance to catch her breath before the next contraction is bearing down on her. She pushes again, and just when I think she’s about to run out of breath, the head comes out. She sucks in a deep, well-deserved breath, not needing me in the least to prompt her to stop.

I catch the baby’s head, cradling it in my hands. “Alright,